Monday, May 06, 2013

Not only
to celebrate the fact that I have just written (in the record-breaking essay-writing time of three days) as well as sent off an essay on the topic of "Sextos Empiricus on appearances and assent" (I am only quoting the title to sound cleverer than I am, innit. Anyway, the lecturer set the titles, which made my life so much easier),
but also
because I think the picture is fun and I want to reward my faithful readers-and-friends with something fun,
I am posting this picture from our recent Shakespeare's Birthday Party.

And the reason that I've split that sentence over several lines is that it was so long and unwieldy that something needed doing to it.

4 comments:

Okay – gotta say that tickles my ego, particularly given how the weevils are usually given to some super sarky remarks.

Oh, and naturally enough, thank you, too. Z (in the operatic red pantaloons, as the Elizabethan gent) made the dress for when we did Winter's Tale a good few years ago. It is the dress for Time, who gives a monologue between Acts Hmrph and Umm, to indicate the passage of, well, time. If it isn't apparent from the picture, it has a panel for each of the seasons, innit: the white one with the sleeve is (you'll be surprised to hear) Winter, the green one with a few blossoms is Spring…and so on…sadly you don't see the golden one for Summer and the red one for Autumn. Each bedecked with appropriate things: rose blossoms, autumn leaves…you get the picture. I think it's The Most Beautiful Dress (and that includes the peculiar one I saw in Florence, which I coveted but which cost something like the ten-story block of flats I live in). I have sorta squeezed a promise out of Z that when I do my PhD and have The Big Ding-Dong To-Do, she'll make me one of my own, complete with a proper corset bodice (don't wanna look like I've got a chubby midriff, ya?). So, you know. I'd prolly have given up on all the study lark by now, if I didn't have such fabulous incentive.

Hmmm. i have a feeling, Montag, that you've failed to join the theatre group's email list; that is how come you missed the chance to come to the Elizabethan Party dressed as The Time-Traveller Oliver Cromwell. Shame.